


My Worst Side

by nihilistshiro



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: College AU, Established Relationship, James Griffin is an ass in this au sorry lol, Jealousy, Keith is feeling territorial, M/M, Modern AU, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 09:11:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20672879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nihilistshiro/pseuds/nihilistshiro
Summary: Keith and Lance are college boyfriends celebrating the end of a long term. Unfortunately for Keith, when he gets to the bar Lance isn’t alone.





	My Worst Side

**Author's Note:**

  * For [renten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/renten/gifts).

> THANK YOU TO THE LOVELY RENTEN ([@UsagiYoongi](https://twitter.com/UsagiYoongi) on Twitter). This is the third request sent my way and I’m happy to be continuing!
> 
> This fic takes place before [The Fourth Trimester](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20599835) on Twitter.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Keith took off his helmet and shook out his hair, running his fingers through the messy, dark locks as he stared up at the neon sign for The Blade—a dive bar at the edge of campus that also happened to have the best cheeseburgers and affordable beer.

It was the spot he and Lance frequented at least once a week, if not more often, since their apartment was nearby. 

Keith had come straight from work at his uncle’s auto body shop and was meeting Lance to celebrate the end of their fall semester.

They’d been dating for a little over a year, and Keith was grateful for every day. Lance was his best friend and he’d helped Keith through a massive depression that threatened to tank his entire college career. 

Falling in love with Lance still felt too good to be true. Shit like that didn’t happen to Keith and he expected everything to fall apart at any given moment. He was born on the wrong side of the tracks, and for most of his life he’d lived with his dad in a double-wide. 

Hell, the only reason he was in college was because he worked his ass off at his uncle’s place and could pay his own way. Most of the time, he was good at hiding his insecurity from Lance, but sometimes it bubbled to the surface, rearing its ugly head and turning Keith into an asshole. 

But Keith was determined to work out his issues. It’s what Lance deserved and Keith wanted that for himself. Wanted to be worthy.

Keith swung a leg over his bike and stood, his jeans splotched with a few grease stains, the black t-shirt he wore stretched tight across his chest and covered with his favorite leather jacket. He wondered if he should have gone home to change, then thought better of it. He was already running late.

The air was cold and it stung Keith’s cheeks, but thankfully it hadn’t snowed any more, which would have been hell on the leather.

Keith nodded at the burly man who sat on an old stool at the door to check IDs, having come often enough to be recognizable. The interior was a hodgepodge of antiques and sports posters, the dark green walls barely visible between each knick knack, which had likely been placed at least a decade ago. 

There were dim lights hanging from the ceiling, creating golden islands in a sea of dark tables and chairs, each one occupied. The place was packed, the dance floor flooded with swerving bodies. 

It looked like they weren't the only ones celebrating a long term.

Keith made his way to the bar, finding an open space and wedging himself neatly between two couples. 

The bartender caught Keith’s eye and nodded, finishing up an order before coming to ask for Keith’s, even though he got the same thing every time. A few seconds later a beer appeared in front of him and Keith put cash down on the bar, turning to survey the room.

Lance was already there, somewhere, and it took Keith a moment to spot him at a tall table in the corner and another moment to recognize that Lance was not alone. A tall, muscular man with a familiar face was chatting amicably with Lance, leaning across the table and giving him too-wide smiles.

Keith first met James Griffin in their shared physics class. Wealthy, smart, and stylish, the star athlete was an arrogant jerk who put down their classmates and had a superiority complex the size of an elephant. 

Keith fucking hated the guy.

He took a long swig of his beer and wiped a gloved hand across his mouth. He stood and shouldered his way through the crowd, protecting his drink and skirting around the dance floor until he was standing next to Lance. He set his beer down on the table with more force than necessary. 

“Keith!” Lance jumped at the sound of the half-full glass clapping against the wood. He recovered quickly, his features smoothing out into a feline grin. “Hey, babe! I’ve been waiting for you.”

Keith leaned in, one hand grabbing the back of Lance’s chair while the other turned Lance’s face so he could kiss him. Lance kissed him back almost instantly, melting against Keith until he remembered they weren’t alone.

“Hehe. I’m glad to see you too,” Lance said nervously, licking his lips. He planted a hand on Keith’s chest to create some distance between them. “You remember James? He said you two had a class together.”

Keith turned a narrowed gaze on the interloper, his arm sliding from the chair to Lance’s shoulder as he tucked him against his side.

“James,” he said through his teeth. "I didn't realize you two knew each other."

For all Keith’s hostility, James gave him a dashing grin, completely unphased by his sour attitude. 

“Long time, no see," James said, giving Keith a short wave. “Lance and I go way back to a stats class freshman year. He was just telling me about your plans for spring break. LA will be a blast. You’re lucky to have such an adventurous partner.”

The way he spoke about Lance with such familiarity made Keith’s blood boil and he had to physically restrain his features from curling in contempt. 

“I am.” Keith leaned down to kiss Lance’s hair. “Very lucky.”

Lance stiffened in his hold and Keith knew he was going to pay for being so territorial later, but staring at Griffin’s stupid, smiling face, watching him eye his boyfriend, was testing Keith’s paper-thin control. 

The table wasn’t big enough for three, but that didn’t stop Keith from dragging another tall chair over, causing several people to turn and stare. He plopped down awkwardly between them, resting both elbows on the table.

“So, uh, Keith. What classes are you taking next term?” James was doing an admirable job of ignoring the awkward tension growing between Keith and Lance, who had taken to folding his arms across his chest and glaring at Keith.

“A few more physics classes. Maybe you’re in one of ‘em and I can outscore you again.”

“Um...” James looked from Keith to Lance, who offered an apologetic smile. “I’m gonna grab another drink. Do you guys want anything?”

“Sure!” Lance said. “I’ll take—“

“We’re good.” Keith stared James down until he turned and left for the bar.

“Keith, what the hell?” Lance smacked his shoulder, brows pulled into a frown. “Why are you acting like such a tool?”

“Why are you sitting here with that fuckhead? I thought we were supposed to celebrate together.”

“We are! He just happened to be here, too! What, you think I invited him or something?”

“Well, you’re not telling him to fuck off. Seems to me like you’d rather spend your time with him than me.”

“Oh my god, you’re being ridiculous.” Lance stood, his chair scraping against the floor. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“Do you even see the way he looks at you?”

“No. I don’t. I guess I was paying too much attention to how  _ you _ look at me, dumb ass.”

Lance stormed off, slipping between bodies on the dance floor to make a b-line for the bathrooms. Keith watched him go with guilt twisting his stomach in knots. 

“Where’d Lance go?” James sat back down, a fresh drink in his hand.

“He ran off, thanks to you.”

“Oh, thanks to me?” Griffin laughed. “He probably ran off because you’re being such a dick."

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Keith asked, standing with his hands balled into fists, ready to knock James down a peg or two.

“On second thought,” James said, getting in Keith’s face, “maybe it was just the smell.”

James dragged his gaze across Keith’s grubby jeans, his messy hair. 

“I guess he’s just tired of dating trash.”

Keith reached back to punch him. 

“Go ahead. Hit me and see where that gets you. I’m sure Lance will appreciate you embarrassing him like this.”

Keith gritted his teeth together. 

“Doesn’t matter. Sooner or later he’ll dump your sorry ass and guess who’ll be there, waiting for him. Me.”

A red haze shrouded Keith’s vision, and he felt anger burn hot and acrid in his chest. He wanted to shout but words failed him.

“You’re just a greasy fuckboy. Lance deserves better, don’t you think?”

James gave him a smile and a wink before downing the last of his drink. 

“Keep up the good work, Trailer Trash.”

Keith watched him go, shame smothering him, making it hard to breath. He wanted to smash something—preferably James Griffin’s smug face. But first, he needed to find Lance and make sure he was okay.

Keith finished his beer and set off across the bar, the flashing lights and loud music on the dance floor making his head throb. 

What if Lance broke up with him? Any why wouldn’t he? James exposed the raw nerve of Keith’s insecurity and dug into it. And the worst part was, Keith couldn’t find any lies. It was true, Lance  _ did _ deserve better. 

The bathrooms were down a hallway lined with navy blue wallpaper that had obnoxious gold patterns emblazoned on it. There were a few people milling about and Keith passed them quickly as he tried the first door. 

The single-use bathroom was empty and so he tried the second one.

“Someone’s in here,” came a woman’s voice.

“Sorry.”

The last door was also locked but when he knocked there was no answer. He knocked again.

“Go away,” Lance said. 

Keith knocked a third time.

“Hey, I said this one is occupado, okay buddy?”

“It’s me.” Keith said, resting his hand on the wooden frame.

“Just leave me alone. I’ll meet you later.”

Keith banged a fist against the door. “Dammit, Lance, let me in.”

The door of the bathroom next to him swung open and the woman came out, giving Keith the stink eye before she walked away. 

“Why should I?” Lance countered. “Seems to me like you just want to bully James and treat me like your fucking property.”

“Please,” Keith said, voice softening. “Let me apologize to you.”

He waited a few seconds, but Lance didn’t respond. His shoulders dropped.

“I guess I’ll see you at home,” Keith said, turning to leave.

The door behind him opened and Lance grabbed the back of his jacket, tugging him into the bathroom and locking them in.

The light in the bathroom was dim, the space surprisingly clean for such a dingy bar. A big, gilded mirror hung from the wall and the floor was covered with tiny, hexagonal black tiles. One wall was completely covered in stickers, some of them peeling off, others freshly placed. 

Keith’s eyes darted around the room before they landed on Lance. He looked like he’d been crying and it hit Keith like a punch in the gut.

“I’m sorry,” he said weakly, rubbing a hand along his bicep, his body curling defensively. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like property.”

“That’s a start,” Lance said, his hands on his slim hips.

“Griffin is just such a fucking asshole—“

“No. No you don’t. Don’t turn this around on him because  _ you _ were trying to start a pissing contest.”

“That guy called me trailer trash! He basically told me he’s waiting for me to fuck up so that he can swoop in. Sorry if that puts me on edge.”

“What? I didn’t know that.”

“He did it just now. He’s been trying to get under my skin since school started.”

“I didn’t know,” Lance said, taking a step toward Keith. “And I’m not into him anyway. I can’t believe he said that to you.”

“Yeah, well I can. He’s a rich know-it-all and I can’t stand him.”

Lance smiled, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“What’s so funny?” Keith asked. 

“You. You’re actually adorable when you’re pouting.”

“I’m not pouting.”

“Yeah, you totally are. I can’t believe you’re jealous of him. You know I’d never go for someone like that, right? I love  _ you _ .”

He put his hands on Keith’s arms, pulling closer. 

“Even if you really are an unbelievable ass sometimes.”

Keith gave a huff of laughter. “I  _ am _ sorry about that. My jealous streak isn’t something I’m proud of. But at least I didn’t hit the guy.”

“I’m glad,” Lance said, his hands sliding up Keith’s shoulders, stroking the sides of his neck. “I don’t wanna get banned from our favorite spot.”

“That would be no good,” Keith replied, skimming his hands down Lance’s ribs and curling them around his waist. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you how good you look tonight.”

Lance hummed, leaning into Keith’s body, his mouth whispering along the skin of Keith’s neck. “How good do I look?”

“So good. You’re beautiful and your ass looks amazing in these jeans.” Keith cuppeed Lance’s behind, squeezing lightly as if to emphasize his point. 

“And?”

“And your skin is so soft.” Keith’s hands traveled up, thumbs grazing his stomach, just beneath the grey fabric of Lance’s long-sleeved Henley. Paired with his ripped, black jeans and heavy boots, he was devastatingly handsome. “I was so pissed when I saw James talking to you, looking at you. The thought of him  _ wanting _ you made me crazy. Still does.”

“Well, he can’t have me,” Lance said, nibbling on Keith’s ear. “I’m yours, baby. Don’t you know that?”

“I know, it’s just…” Keith searched for the words to explain all of his inadequacies. “I know you’re mine. But I still have trouble believing I deserve you. I’m just waiting for you to lose interest. Tell me you’re bored. Or that you found someone better.”

His voice grew softer still, his arms falling limp around Lance’s middle. “What if I really am just trailer trash?”

“Hey,” Lance’s tone was serious, his hands forcing Keith’s face up so he could meet his gaze. “You are  _ not _ trailer trash. You  _ are _ good enough. And I love you, Keith Kogane.  _ Only _ you. I’ll get your name tattooed on my chest if it means you finally get it through that thick head of yours that I’m not going anywhere. I’m in this for the long haul.”

Keith snorted. “You’re not gonna get a tattoo of my name. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. We’re not even married.”

“Fine. I’ll get it when you  _ finally _ propose to me.”

“You’re not getting a tattoo.”

“Wanna bet?”

“What’s in it for me?” Keith asked, his mood lifting as Lance’s smile warmed his core, driving out the bitter venom of his jealousy. 

“Tch. Me, duh.”

“You’re on.”

Keith leaned in, pressing his mouth to the corner of Lance’s and Lance giggled, turning so they fit better. Their mouths met easily, chastely at first, a gentle brush of lips, their warm breath mingling together as it had a thousand times before. 

But the adrenaline from earlier was still pumping through Keith, his heart pounding in his chest, hands diving into Lance’s hair to hold him still while he attacked his mouth. 

Lance groaned and the sound was trapped between them, Keith swallowing it down and letting it absolve him of his earlier sins. Lance’s tongue slipped into his mouth and Keith’s hands dug into Lance’s hips, holding him close.

Keith was already hard and he could feel Lance responding in kind. He split Lance’s legs with his own so that Lance could grind down on his thigh, their kiss becoming something desperate and anxious, desire zipping between them like an electric current.

Keith sucked Lance’s lip between his teeth, biting it before he moved lower, nipping at Lance’s jaw, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses across his throat. He latched on to the soft curve of muscle connecting Lance’s neck and shoulder, a red mark blossoming beneath his mouth.

“Keith,” Lance moaned, his voice raw, echoing around the small bathroom. 

The sound of his name on Lance’s lips was ecstasy and he marked him again, one arm banded around Lance’s waist to keep him steady as his hips rocked against Keith’s thigh. 

It had always been like this between them—a flame that started small but grew to be a ravenous wildfire, spreading across their skin and consuming everything around them until they were no longer two separate beings, but one, continuous flash of want and need. 

Lance sobbed, frustrated as Keith toyed with him, his free hand traveling up Lance’s long torso to pinch and flick at his sensitive nipple. He arched his back, pressing himself into Keith, his long limbs wrapping around Keith’s body.

Keith grabbed Lance’s ass and hoisted him up, and Lance instinctively wrapping his legs around his hips. Keith backed him up until Lance’s shoulders hit the door with a thud that was muffled beneath the sound of the pulsing music from the dance floor seeping into their hideaway.

“Keith, I want you,” Lance whined, tugging Keith’s mouth back up to his own. 

Keith licked into him, sinking into the taste of Lance, the feel of his erection flexing against Keith’s stomach. He wanted to strip Lance bare, lay him out on their bed and feel him shudder and moan beneath him. 

Keith realized the jealousy he felt earlier had mostly disappeared. The lingering anger was still there, and some remnants of his shame, but Keith was quickly losing himself in loving Lance. He wanted to bring out those breathy sighs, wanted to imprint his love into Lance’s skin so that wherever he went, Keith was there. 

“Not here,” he grunted, backing up and letting Lance’s legs slide to the floor.

Lance pouted, his bottom lip jutting out and Keith leaned in to plant a soft kiss on it, his hands resting on Lance’s shoulders.

“Let’s go home,” he said, pressing their foreheads together. “I want to take my time with you and fall asleep next to you and maybe wake up for another round later.”

Lance chuckled, pushing away from Keith so he could wash his hands and fix up his hair.

“Alright. I’ll accept your apology in the form of a mind-blowing orgasm.”

“I am sorry,” Keith said opening the door and ignoring the looks from the small group of people waiting in line. “But also fuck that guy.”

Lance laughed and it was loud and bright and chased away the rest of Keith’s doubts, touching him deep in a place where even his own anxiety couldn’t reach.

“Yeah, fuck him,” Lance said.

“No,  _ don’t _ fuck him.”

Lance laughed again, slinging an arm around Keith’s shoulder as they made their way to the exit. 

“How about fuck  _ me _ ,” Lance said.

“Now that’s a plan I can get behind.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you again for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated :)
> 
> Find me on Twitter! [@nihilistshiro](https://twitter.com/NihilistShiro)


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